Two months ago, the Cleveland Plain Dealer published its own commentary on the obesity epidemic with a series whose cover page spelled out, in large type, the words, “Eat, drink, and be sorry.” Excuse me? Eat, drink, and be SORRY? The actual quote reads, “Eat, drink, and be merry, so that joy will accompany him in his work all the days of his life…” And herein lies the problem.
Wendell Berry said that “Eating with the fullest pleasure — pleasure, that is, that does not depend on ignorance — is perhaps the profoundest enactment of our connection with the world. In this pleasure we experience and celebrate our dependence and our gratitude, for we are living from mystery, from creatures we did not make and powers we cannot comprehend.”
In the movie Chocolat, we hear, “Listen, here’s what I think. I think we can’t go around measuring our goodness by what we don’t do. By what we deny ourselves. What we resist, and who we exclude. I think we’ve got to measure goodness by what we embrace, what we create, and who we include.”
We cannot hope to reverse the epidemic of obesity and diabetes in a culture of deprivation. It says a lot when people feel the need to demonstrate just how little butter or cream they actually used by squashing together their thumb and index finger. If the so-called French paradox has taught me anything, it has taught me to be proud that I fried my fresh eggs in butter this morning, and that I drank my tea with real cream. There is no French paradox. There are only large numbers of well-meaning individuals who are utterly confused about what constitutes healthy eating.
Most of my obese patients are severely deficient in Vitamin D. Many are deficient in protein, and in various B vitamins. Caring for them has taught me that obesity is a malnourished state perpetuated, in part, by a diet that adversely affects certain individuals more than others, and a society that assigns blame to those individuals for the effects of that diet.
If you google the disease kwashiorkor, which is caused by a severe deficiency of dietary protein, you will find photographs of pale, swollen babies with listless appearances, abnormal swelling around the eyes (called “periorbital edema”), and distended bellies. I see people who look like that in my office every day. We all know some people who appear to need more water, and others who appear to need more calories, remaining thin despite the fact that they always take a second helping of everything. What if some types of obesity are caused by a relative deficiency of protein or fat? What would be the consequences of eating a low-fat, high-carbohydrate diet to people whose own particular metabolisms require more protein or fat? Or both?
If it’s not about depriving ourselves of the healthy pleasures of the table, then what is it about? I give myself permission to pursue delicious, flavorful food, and here is a very abbreviated list of ideas for where to find it: In cheeses, especially ones with strong flavors like parmigiana, blue cheese, and extra sharp cheddar. In herbs and spices, like basil, chili powder, cinnamon, curry, ginger, horseradish, lemon balm, mustard, and rosemary. In lemon juice, soy sauce, roasted sesame oil, and balsamic vinegar. In ripe strawberries, peaches, and cantaloupes. In chives, jalapenos, scallions, and carmelized onions. In dark, green, leafy vegetables, sun-dried tomatoes, and roasted root vegetables. In peanuts, hazelnuts, wheat germ and roasted almonds.
If you’re looking for flavor, chop 2 garlic cloves with 1½ tablespoons lemon zest (peel) and ¼ teaspoon kosher salt. Mix in 1 tablespoon of olive oil, and then ¾ cup finely chopped parsley. Finally, add a can of rinsed white beans. It’s called White Beans & Gremolata, and it’s delicious.
Dean Ornish encourages us to “eat with ecstasy,” knowing it’s a strategy that will last a lifetime. As opposed to the strategy of portion control. “Awareness is the first step in healing. When we become more aware of how powerfully our choices in diet and lifestyle affect us—for better and for worse—then we can make different ones. It’s like connecting the dots between what we do and how we feel.”
Eating well and eating smart are one and the same, so denying ourselves the pleasure of eating dooms us from the start. I’m not talking here about the food industry’s carefully targeted mix of fat, sugar and salt, identified by David Kessler in The End of Overeating, that hijacks our natural ability to enjoy and appreciate food, and feel satisfied. I’m talking about color, texture, temperature, and flavor.
Once upon a time we understood in our bones that eating well and eating smart were one and the same. When we reclaim that knowledge, then we will reclaim our health as a community.